Speak to Me
by iamatwihard
Summary: WIP, AU, AH. When Edward decides to no longer waste his breath on speaking, no one notices. Except Bella, who relishes in his silence. Actions speak louder than words.


**A/N: I have a vague idea where this story was headed; it popped into my mind while I was trying to find food in my fridge. I'm not saying what point in the story this is, I don't want to give stuff away. But, I will say that I have **_**a lot**_** more written, and I love this Edward…on the outside he's a pessimistic emo, but on the inside he's a really fucking great guy. I'll be doing POV swaps throughout as well.**

**Enjoy! (And review…whatever floats your boat) :)**

**BPOV**

Not wanting to meet his eyes, I glared down at the luxurious carpet beneath my feet. "If you're not interested…then why didn't you just say so." I turned my back on him and his fancy leather swivel chair; ready to run away, rejection stinging my eyes.

"I'm sorry. Really. I shouldn't be so cold." I turned to face him again, a little stunned. As I did he swivelled his chair to face toward his bookshelf, away from me. "And, by the way, I am interested."

Did he…just speak? I'd been here 2 weeks and he'd never spoken a word. And I very highly doubted that he was the least bit interested, now that he had his back to me. "You don't seem like it."

He sighed, "Bella…"

He knew my name?

"Do you know how long I've worked here for?"

Honestly? "No." I knew nothing about him…I didn't even know his last name. Edward…something. And the only reason that I knew his name was because he was a popular topic around here. It seemed like every day _somebody _had to take a laugh at him. It was all very juvenile, and I didn't participate.

"Seven years. I'm very good at my job, very professional. So I don't talk to anybody. Socialisation…is not high on my list of priorities. I live by myself…about 6 miles of this place. All of my family and friends… passed away, I guess…many years ago…"

How odd, he seemed absolutely un-phased by this…and 'I_ guess_'? What was that supposed to mean? Curiosity was bubbling up inside of me, threatening to explode like word vomit. I had _a lot _of questions, most of which I don't think he would want to answer. So I kept my mouth shut tight, fighting the urge to cover it with my hands. He took my silence as a cue to continue.

"So I don't talk at home either….This is the first conversation I've had in five years. Sure, a small 'hello' now and then to answer the phone at home…but, for the first time in five years, I am actually speaking to someone. So you'd think I'd be pretty interested in that someone, right?" He swivelled his chair back toward me. The right side of his mouth was twisted up into the most beautiful smile I'd ever seen.

"Yeah…uh. I…suppose." Very, smooth Bella, very smooth.

Then without warning, the other side of his mouth twisted up as well, and he was wearing the most angelic grin on his face.

Before I could embarrass myself anymore, I decided I better get going. "So…I have to go to this…function thing… A "Mr. Newton" is throwing this big party, wants me on board. I'm catering…"

He raised his eyebrows. "Mr. Newton? I've heard about him…He sounds like a very…nice man." He didn't seem to mean it.

"I suppose. I haven't met him yet, though."

"Here's hoping," And after a brief moment, that grin returned.

I tried to return the smile as best as I could without ogling, but I'm pretty sure that I looked more like a panicked squirrel. I heard him quietly chuckle something to himself as I opened the door in front of me, and let myself out.

* * *

**EPOV**

Embrace it Edward, embrace the smile. You're talking to her. I was having my first conversation in five years, and I was feeling pretty fucking good.

But before I could prolong the moment any further, she interrupted me. "So, I have to go to this…function thing. A "Mr. Newton" is throwing this big party, wants me on board. I'm catering."

Mr. _Newton?_ What the fuck? I thought that prick quit that shit years ago. Always thought he was the best in high school, that little fucker was the reason that I was like this. There was no other way to describe him. "Mr. Newton. I've heard about him. He sounds like a very…nice man."

Nice man, my ass.

"I suppose. I haven't met him yet, though."

"Here's hoping," that you never fucking have to. In that split second, my brain began to plan. Yes, I could see a plan forming. Easily enough, I could keep her away from that fuckhead. So I returned my old grin, happy enough, that I could keep her safe.

I had to chuckle when she tried to return my smile, because honestly, she looked more like a frightened rabbit. Then she opened her door and walked away.

First conversation in five years…first _smile_ in five years. I couldn't keep this fucking grin off my face.

**A/N: Reviewers make me more excited than panicked squirrels and frightened rabbits combined.**


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